Growing Pains
by Petrichor1110
Summary: When John and Sherlock decide to have a baby, they find out it won't be as easy as they hoped. Parentlock. Johnlock. And be warned, lots of fluff!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! Just to start this off, this is just a fun little parentlock idea that I had, thought maybe I'd give it a go. I can't promise it will be continued, but I will give it my best shot! I hope you like it, if you do let me know!**

**Also, my inspiration for this fic was my good friend Robyn.**

**And finally, I don't own Sherlock. Gotta put that out there!**

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"Sherlock, are you saying what I think you are?" John asked, his shock taking full hold of him. He watched as Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave his, 'you're an idiot, John' sigh. But the doctor didn't even know if this was quite possible let alone fees able for them, probably in their flat, using their kitchen as a lab. Not to even mention the ethics of it all. He supposed that it had to be otherwise Sherlock wouldn't have suggested it, but was he really thinking it through? "Well, are you?" John asked once again. It was early, too early to be up, and way to early to be having this conversation. Even Sherlock was still in his pyjamas and house coat, which was saying something.

The detective huffed. "Yes I am. I love you and in order to keep you, we require a child. Though, unfortunately we are both incapable of carrying said child. And really, the notion of surrogacy or adoption is absolutely ludicrous, so I see this to be the only way. " He said, crossing his arms over his chest. He started pacing around the living room, carefully eyeing John as he did so.

John fell back into the couch. "Why is surrogacy or adoption so ludicrous? There are lots children in this world that could use a good home." He said, trying to bring Sherlock down to a more reasonable thought process.

"No. If we are going to have a child I want it to be our child. Half me and half you. I don't want someone else's child." He said with a frown. He was unable see why John wouldn't or couldn't understand this. This was completely logical, if he was going to help raise a child (something he would have never considered before John), they would have to do it his way.

John stood up and grabbed Sherlock's shoulder, pulling him around so that he could see his pale face. "First of all, I love you. I don't 'require' a child to be with you. Yes, I would like to be a father, but when I chose you I knew that probably wouldn't happen. If it's not in our cards, then I can handle that, I won't leave you if we can't have one. Because no matter what, I chose you." He said very seriously, before he pulled him into a comforting embrace. He held the younger man for a little while before he finally let him squirm away. "Second, if this is something you decide you want, not because you want to make me happy, but for you, then we can see about this. But honestly I don't like the idea of engineering a baby."

He earned another eye roll from Sherlock. "It won't be like a science experiment John. It's parallel with the traditional way of making a baby. They combine our DNA, put it into a zygote and then implant it into an artificial womb. The baby grows just like any other. And then after the proper gestation, we recive our child." He said very matter of factly.

John looked puzzled for a second. "So it would just be us messing around in the kitchen trying to figure this out?" He asked. Sherlock just shook his head, probably unwilling to give any acknowledgment to such a ridiculous question. "But isn't that a little clinical? A group of scientists just growing us a child?"

Sherlock took a deep breath. " I doubt a fetus will notice the difference." He replied easily. Still he didn't want to give John any excuse to say no and it helped show that he had looked at everything."As soon as the fetus can hear they start playing our voices on a track for eight hours a day, supplementing with classical music and nature sounds." He sighed.

John pressed his eyebrows together, was he really considering this? "Are you sure this is what you want though? I don't want to pressure you into something like this, not when you might regret it and there's no going back." He said, holding his place in front.

"Yes, I believe being a father would be something I would enjoy and a great opportunity to study human relationships with a bit more practical experience. I also wouldn't mind having a progeny." He smiled, knowing full well it would help win John over.

The blonde sighed. He didn't like the idea of their baby being made by a third party, but at least this way they had some control over the process and the baby would be just theirs. But still, it seemed so cold, but it would let him be a father, something he had wanted ever since he could remember. And Sherlock really did seem okay with the idea of co-parenting, so why was he still hesitating? "How do we do this?" He asked. There had to be a process, there was a process with everything, and when it came to having a child, it was usually a long one.

Sherlock had his 'I've won' smirk on even though it was only a slight win, since it was something he already craved. "It's simple, the institute is only an hour away. In fact, we have a meeting at three." He smiled as he watched the doctor shake his head. John reached up placing his hand on Sherlock's neck and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you." He said, before running his hand through Sherlock's ebony curls. Even if John wasn't fully convinced this was for them, he was thankful that Sherlock had considered it and was trying to make this a possibility. He was a bit disappointed that Sherlock couldn't see any other options, but he did have a point. He wanted their child to belong to them and that was reasonable, plus there was probably a lot less red tape this way. "Did you want a cuppa then?" He asked as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Obviously." He replied stoically, his navy blue dress coat flowing behind him as he moved toward the desk. John had long ago given up on keeping Sherlock out of his computer, now he just kind of accepted it. He flicked on the kettle as he grabbed everything for the tea. They were doing this then...they were really doing this, or at least seriously looking into it.

John quickly brought the tea out, still kind of unsure. "Okay, one last time. You're sure about this?" He asked, placing the tea down beside the detective. He knew that if they were going to do this, at least one of them had to be 100% sure, and it definitely wasn't him.

Sherlock sighed, closing the laptop and turning toward his doctor. "Yes, John. I am positive. I want you, I want a child, I want this, and I know you do to. So then, tell me, why are you still wavering?" He asked, cupping his face sweetly.

The older man closed his eyes, relaxing into the touch. "I don't know...I'm just scared. This isn't like buying a hamster or a couch together...It's a baby, for god's sake, a human being." He kneeled down, getting closer to the detective. "I never thought this would even be a possibility, so now that it is, I don't want to fuck it up before its even a reality." He mumbled so quietly that Sherlock had a hard time hearing him.

"My dear, dear, John. Nothing is going to mess this up. We will make this happen, one way or another, I promise. I love you, more than I ever thought I could. You've shown me that I can love and be loved. That in itself is a miracle, so if we can make that work, why is this so different?" He asked.

He took a deep breath. Sherlock was right (as always), they had already achieved so much, they could do this to. "Alright, you're absolutely right." He said, giving him another simple peck before standing up once more."If this does actually work out, you're going to have to stop calling our baby a fetus."

"But..." Sherlock started, quickly stopping when John shot him a mean death glare.

"No buts."

When John thought back to that conversation, it seemed silly that he had been so worried. It had been eleven months and although his initial fears had been alleviated, all new ones had taken their place. Their baby would be born any day now, and yet he still felt like there was no way they were ready to be parents.

Yes, they had the nursery finished and had (mostly) baby proofed the flat. They had read almost every book on parenting that existed and had bought everything the books had told them they would need. He was a bloody doctor for God's sake, and yet none of this made him felt prepared. Sherlock was as calm and steady as ever...which was just plain unerving. He was too quiet, too focused. John knew something was up but didn't know what, until the night before their baby was due, when Sherlock woke him up in an absolute panic.

"John?" He whispered, rolling over so he was facing his significant other. "John?" He called slightly lounder, nudging the snoring man. When that still failed to get his attention. "John!" He yelled, punctuating his panic with a heavy fist to his arm.

"Oi! That hurt, Sherlock!" He said as he sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. "You better have a damn good reason for that." He said with irritation running through his voice.

Sherlock moved so he was soon sitting up as well. "Do you realize what day it is?" He asked, staring at the doctor wide-eyed. "Let me tell you. It's been exactly eight months, four weeks, two days, seven hours, twenty-six minutes, and 43...44...45 seconds, since our child was concived. John, our baby will be born in ten hours or less! Ten hours!" He said his voice getting louder and louder.

He blinked, having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "That's why I am sleeping, because unlike you I need all the sleep I can get and soon there won't be much of that happening in this flat."

"But... ten hours..." He trailed.

John rest his hand on the panicked detective's shoulder. "I know. Ten hours till we can hold our baby in our arms, ten hours till we can meet our baby for the first time. Ten hours till we can bring him or her home and show them the nursery." He cooed as he ran his fingers down his bare skin. "In less than a day, we will be fathers, Sherlock. Isn't that exciting?" He asked in a soft voice.

"No, it's terrifying. It's terrifying, nerve racking, soul crushing, disastrous, foul, would you like me to continue?" He replied, staring straight ahead the entire time.

He just shook his head. "Breathe. We are ready for this." He was lying, but he had to say something to calm him down. "We have to be. Because it's too late to get cold feet. In ten hours we will be parents and then it's not just us that we have to look out for. I know, why don't you tell me what you think our baby will look like?" He asked, knowing a deduction or a bit of science would calm him down, at least a bit.

"There is a high probability that our child will have dark hair, though there is a slight chance that they could be born with or develop your fairer coloring. They will most likely have blue eyes..."He stopped, grabbing John's hand, leaving it there for almost a whole minute. "I have decided that I want our baby to have your eyes John. They are the perfect blue, always somewhere between the sky on a clear day and a tide pool. Who could ask for a better color? Oh, and I've decided I dislike the name Victoria, and Anne for that matter." He said cooly.

John raised both of his eyebrows. "Honestly, Sherlock? We spent months choosing names, we can't change them now. It's either Victoria Anne or Matthew James. That's it." He said, with a strict tone.

Instead of saying something, the younger man just made a gagging sound. "And how many drinks did you have in me when I agreed to those? They are horrible names. Victoria Anne sounds far too British and much too Queen and Country. Matthew James, really? Is our child going to write the lost gospel?" He asked, waving his hands wildly.

"Anne, is my mother's name. And must I remind you that Matthew and James were both your choices." John replied, with a hard swat, partially to pay him back for his still throbbing arm and partially for his sudden dislike for the one name he got to pick. "Well, what about George?" He asked, only to get another gag in response.

"We are not about to name our first born after Lestrade!" Sherlock whined.

The doctor shook his head once more."It's Greg, as in Gregory. How many times have I told you that?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes in response. "That's even worse!" He cried.

"That's it. Either we stick with what we have or I will be naming our baby, and you will have no choice in the matter." John said, putting his foot down once and for all. "Now good night. We have a busy day tomorrow, best get a few more hours of sleep." He said as he sunk back down and turned off the lamp.

"Fine." Sherlock grumbled as he wrapped his arms around the shorter man and pressed their bodies together. "Good night."

They decided they would leave two or three hours extra early, just in case traffic was slow or their baby was early. They had a brand new, right out the package diaper bag, so filled with with onsies, hats, bottles, pacifiers, toys, diapers, blankets, ect. , thatnit looked like it might burst at any moment.

They had had their breakfast and did a double check, just making sure they weren't forgetting anything. Just as they were about to leave, Sherlock stopped by the door, suddenly reaching down to pull John into a nervous/anxious kiss. "Well, then. That's that." He said, as they left Baker Street for the last time without their baby.

John started loading their things into the reasonably priced, almost new, grey sedan, that they had bought, just so they could travel with the baby. The subway would have been too difficult and taxis too expensive if they had to take one everywhere they went and back.

It had been decided that they would both take a month off work, and then Sherlock could take on a few, less dangerous cases and then John could go back to the surgery one day a week. It seemed like a fair trade, but that was only if it worked out.

As the piled themselves into the car, it seemed much tighter than it had when they had first picked it, but maybe that was just their nerves. " John? Would you please calm down? You're shaking the car." He said as he buckled in.

"I can't help it!" John replied as he started driving. "I'm anxious, what if the baby doesn't like me, or I drop them, or the baby is crying and I don't know what to do!?" He asked.

"Pull over. Now." Sherlock said, even though they hadn't quite made it off Baker Street yet. "I'm not going to have you kill me before I can meet out son or daughter. Out, get out." He said hastily as they switched spots.

Once they had started driving again, Sherlock finally spoke once more. "And just so you are aware, if you do drop our baby, so help you God, they will never find your body John Watson."

The rest of the drive went pretty much the same, with John ready to jump out of his skin and Sherlock as snappy as ever. Sherlock still complained about the baby names and John was still threatening to not let him have a say. It was only an hour away, but it felt so much futher. It seemed like days could have passed by the time they got there.

They walked into the Institute, it wasn't like home but it also didn't feel like your average laboratory. It was very modern, but with many wood touches. It was made to at least feel welcoming and over the past eleven months, they had been there many times it almost felt like a second home. For the initial meeting, check ups, follow ups, paperwork, and to see their growing baby, whenever they could manage. They had decided to not find out the sex which basically meant neither of them had seen the ultrasound photo's. So really this would be their first time meeting and seeing their baby. They were both so excited but so terrified at the same time, even though Sherlock was brilliant at hiding it.

"So, if you will just take a seat here, I will go and find out how close we are to handing you your baby. Just give me one moment." The director said, showing them to a large sitting area, although they seemed to be the only two there. The director, was a pretty blonde woman, perhaps late 30's. Definitely John's type and he could tell that it was putting Sherlock even more on edge.

John ran his hands once more through Sherlock's mop of curls. "I love you, so much. I just can't believe this is actually happening." He said with a reassuring smile.

"John...do you think that I will be a good father? I mean, I never even been around children, not really." Sherlock asked quietly, his voice echoing in the large hall.

He grabbed Sherlock's hand with both of his, caressing it slowly. "Of course I do, other wise I would have never agreed to this." He laughed, until Sherlock shot him a harsh stare. "You learn faster than anyone I have ever met, probably faster than anyone, ever. You are going to have everything down in a week, I'm sure. I'll be fumbling with putting the top on the bottle and you will have already made five in the same time. You will be brilliant Sherlock, trust me." He said, kissing his hand.

But without another moment, the director came out once more."We are ready for you." She said with a smile.

They both stumbled, trying to stand up in such a flurry. "And we are ready for this." John said, still holding Sherlock's hand as they walked through a set of large wooden doors.

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**If you liked this, if you want to see more, or if you just want to say something about this, (I.e. 'that's so against cannon!' 'Unrealistic much!' Or my personal favorite 'You are amazing!') Go right ahead, I really do appreciate comments and reviews of all types, and truth be told I'm just excited that you actually read this! So thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, thanks for all the amazing reviews! It made this chapter so easy to write! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. **

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They walked into a small white room, that had one crib, a rocking chair, a soft rug and a changing table. There was nurse off to the corner of the room, and a small blanket wrapped figure inside the crib. "Thank you, Penelope. " John said absently to the director.

Sherlock had a vice grip on John's hand as they moved forward. They peered into the crib at the sweetest baby they had ever laid eyes on. "Is it a boy or a girl?" Sherlock asked, his voice ringing with feeling, something that sound off and unusual as it passed his lips.

"A boy." The nurse replied, before the director lead her out of the room. "We will leave the three of you to be alone for a while." She said as the left through a door to their right.

John could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he watched Sherlock reach down into the crib and pick up the sleeping baby. He cooed nonsense in a smooth tone as the baby started to cry, quickly calming him down. "You were right, you were so right." He said as he reached out and ran his finger+s over their son's thick, dark hair. It was just like Sherlock's. "He has your hair." He was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen. And with that he opened his eyes to the world, nice and wide, taking everything in, John supposed.

Sherlock knew he was being selfish holding onto the baby for as long as he was, but he didn't have enough room in his heart to care. It was too filled with joy and happiness. He looked just like John, he had his nose and his ears, all of his clearly defined facial features. He was so perfect. While the Detective had been nervous about the baby he certainly hadn't expected this swell of emotion that had welled up inside of him. This was his son, John's son, something that wouldn't have even been possible five or ten years ago. This baby was a miracle.

"I'm dying here, Sherlock. Can I just hold him for a moment?" John asked, anxious to hold their child in his arms as well. With that, the younger man passed him over (very carefully). He slid his hands out from underneath of him, brushing John's arm as he did so.

So many people had told them that their relationship was wrong or a sin, but when he looked at John holding their newborn baby...He was incapable of seeing how anyone could seeing view such a thing as a sin. "John...there's something I must do. Just give me a second." He said as he rushed out of the room, taking a lost longing look at his family.

Honestly, this was the birth of their son and he couldn't stay longer than five minutes? John shook his head, cooing at the little baby in his arms. How could anything be that beautiful, he thought as he sat down in the rocking chair. "Where has your papa gone? Hmm?" He asked as he rock back and forth, holding him close to his chest.

But within just a few more moments Sherlock was back, mobile in hand. "I just went to call everyone. I know you wanted Greg and to be the first to know, but I added Molly to the list as well. And as far as Mycroft goes, I'm sure he is already watching." He said with an automatic eye roll. He knelt down so that he was eye level with the baby and kiss his tiny hand. "Can you believe we made this John? Because I can't, I just can't believe how amazing this feels."

"I know, I'm just glad the wait is over. And thanks for calling everyone, I appreciate that you let me hold the baby for a bit." He said with a quite laugh, not wanting to disturb the baby.

Sherlock smiled, glad that he had done something right. "I also talked to the Penelope, she said that whenever we are ready, we can leave, but that there's no rush."

John still had a few more things he wanted to do before they left, like put him into the blue onsie they had brought in case it was a boy, check his measurements..."What about all the paperwork?" John asked as he continued to rock.

"Done, I took care of it." He said, not daring to look up this time.

John's face turned from a smile into a very stern, cross expression that Sherlock had learned to look out for. "What did you do?" He asked, trying not to worry, even though he knew he should.

Sherlock was silent for a few moments, just staring at their child. "Nothing, I just filled out some forms, signed a few things, you know." He said, clearly leaving something out.

"You know, as in things like the birth certificate?" John asked, gripping the arm of the rocking chair. Sherlock stood up, and walked across the room. "Maybe."

John took a few deep breaths, trying to remember that there was a baby in his arms. "What did you name our son?" He asked between gritted teeth." Sherlock!"

He snorted and mumbled something under his breathe. "What was that, I couldn't quite catch it." John asked in a scary way that made Sherlock want to jump.

"Definitely not Matthew James. You must see it was a ridiculous name to begin with." He reasoned.

"And Sherlock is not ridiculous? It's a girls name for goodness sakes!" John said as he stood up and place the baby back in the crib. "What did you name him, Sherlock!?" He asked as he backed him into the corner.

The younger man knew that he would have to say, but that didn't give him much motivation. "William... I put down William as his first name." Sherlock said timidly.

"We will talk about this later. At home." He said quietly, much, much too quietly. John didn't even think about changing him from the blue onsie to the white now. He picked up the baby once more, placing him into the car seat that they had brought, and carried the baby, seat and all out the door. He said quick goodbyes to the director (making sure to be overly friendly) and all the nurses and made his way out the door. Sherlock on the other hand followed out out cautiously, avoiding eye contact with basically everyone, but thanking the director on the way out.

He very gingerly helped John get the baby into the car, once again awed by how perfect he was, even with all his layers on. John was silent for the first few minutes of the drive, letting Sherlock drive in peace for the moment, but he could tell a storm was brewing.

"You named our child after the bloody Duke of Cambridge, without even warning me!" John said, his voice dark and quiet at first, but getting more intense as he realized how upset he truly was.

Sherlock moved to say something but John quickly cut him off. "We had those names decided on months ago, after nearly two months straight of bickering. Then you think you can just go and change it to whatever the hell you feel like. I am so unbelievably pissed off with you right now, the only reason I'm not screaming bloody murder, is that there is a baby in the back seat." He said, his face the shade of a strawberry.

"What were we going to do, name him something awful just because we had previously decided it was a good idea? If you recall, William was on your list and made it into the final selections." He said, knowing full well that it was a bad idea to argue back.

"Yes, but so did Sherringford and Hanz. Did you ever think for a one moment I was going to go for either of those?" He asked.

Sherlock attempted to bite his tongue and swallow his words, yet failed miserably. "Just so you are aware his full name is William Hamish." He spat, bitter now knowing that John had never taken those choices seriously.

The detective never really got to see the soldier side of his doctor, but oh when he did, he knew to be prepared for a war. "When we get home, you better hide my gun Sherlock Holmes, otherwise it will be your body they'll never find." He said before turning on the radio, but keeping it low so that it wouldn't wake...William.

William wasn't really a horrible name, he didn't actually mind it much. It was just that Sherlock had gone and made the decision without him. Hamish on the other hand, had been a name that had tortured him for decades. A name passed down through a long line of Watsons, ridiculing each generation that much more than the one previous.

-o0o-

By the time they arrived at Baker Street a little while later, baby in tow, John was absolutely fuming. But he wasn't going to be the one responsible for wrecking the first day of their child's life, especially since Sherlock had already cursed him with the name Hamish.

Once they had gotten him home and out of the seat, John allowed Sherlock to have the first go at changing a diaper. Sherlock had split dead people in two, seen countless dead bodies and murders, and could easily handle the stench of a rotting corpse, but this...this was unexplainable. "How can it smell this horrid? Has he even really had time to digest that amount of food?!" He howled as an amused John watched from a safe distance as the brunette began to undertake his first ever nappy change. He very carefully unfastened the tiny diaper that the nurse had originally given him, gently lifting his legs, making sure not to hurt him, only to be face with an unholy mess that Sherlock just rid as quickly as possible.

And that's when his son, this impossibly small human being, his progeny, began to urinate on him. The look on Sherlock's face was utter betrayal, where as John was splitting at the sides. "Don't laugh! Help me! John!" He hollered as his free hand searched for something to stop the stream, but by the time his hand had landed on something suitable, William had already finished and Sherlock was satisfactorily covered.

John just walked away, leaving their child in Sherlock's (somewhat) capable hands. He came back (of course) as soon as Will had been all cleaned up, whisking him off and allowing Sherlock to go do the same. He just loved looking at him, even though he was still a bit red and his hair stuck flat to his head, he was easily the most beautiful thing that John had ever seen. And even Sherlock being Sherlock wasn't going to detract from their first day as a family.

"One day William, I'm going to tell you the story of how you got your name. And I'd bet the farm that you will laugh and laugh, because even though it doesn't seem very funny right now, we will look back and see that Papa did this because he loves you so much. And don't tell him this, he will be insufferable if you do, but he was right. You're not a Matthew at all. William was a better choice, and I guess I should just be happy he didn't name you Horatio or Quinn or something equally odd." He said softly, in a high pitched voice that seemed off in his throat but strangely appropriate.

"At least Mycroft won't be upset by it, it's definitely a British sounding name for a full blooded British boy." Sherlock said as he rounded the corner. He was showered and still slightly damp, towel drying his hair with one hand and his other is his jumper pocket. He was attempting to get back on John's good side. He knew it drove him wild when he dressed down. So instead of the soiled dress shirt he wore his one blue polo that John had gotten him last Christmas, a plain grey hoodie, and jeans, hoping that it would at least be enough to get him out of the gun hiding phase. He knew it was safe to sit down when John flashed him the beginnings of a smile.

He sat down beside his partner in crime/significant other. "We are in way over our heads, aren't we?" He asked as he rested his head on John's shoulder, staring into William's big blue eyes.

"Definitely." John replied. "Aren't we always though?"

Sherlock smiled and kissed John's cheek, reaching out his hand to play with Will's tiny toes. "He is much cuter once he has stopped spraying bodily fluids."

John chuckled. " I don't know, I was pretty proud of that, I'm not gonna lie." He said, now sporting a full blown grin. "You're still not forgiven, and if you ever pull something like that again, I will punch you in the face. I promise you that."

"Well, it's not every day that one can mess with the naming of a child." He replied casually. Sherlock ran his hands over his lover's back as he looked longingly at their child. "We should have another one. Then I would have one to hold."

"How about we handle this one first, then we can talk about having another." He said with light laugh.

John smiled and realized he had had the baby for an exceedingly long time, but he really didn't want to give him up. Even then he knew he should, so he gave him to Sherlock who held him in his lap. "Are you really alright with William, because we can go change it if your not." Sherlock said. "Though you must say he has a William way about him." He added, hoping they could keep it.

"It's a good name, a strong name. I do like it, but you shouldn't have gone about it the way you did. Did you really have to give him the name Hamish?" John asked.

Sherlock laughed. "I thought you would like it to continue down the line. It is a strong name, I'm sure being around us, he will need as much strength as he can get. He laughed once more, this time jostling the baby a little too much.

"John! What do I do!?" He asked as he held the crying baby out in front of him,

He just shook his head. "Comfort him, soothe him. What did the books say?" He said, trying to get him to think, because John for the life of him, couldn't remember.

He stood up, cradling him in his arms, rocking him as he walked, but it didn't seem to be working, the more he walked, the more William wailed. He started to sing, something John could safely say he had never heard before, and although it was beautiful, the baby didn't seem to appreciate it.

John soon jumped up and ran to the kitchen, running back into the living room almost as quick as he left. "I bet the poor kid is hungry." He said as he put a small green pacifier in his mouth, which William seemed more than content to suck on for the time being. "See, that's all. I will go make up a bottle." John said, feeling Sherlock's apprehension float away.

"Thank you." He said, breathing a heavy sigh of relief, now knowing the cause of this upset. He continued to rock the baby in his arms, was observing as he eyes fluttered open and closed. He about what it must be like to see the world through fresh eyes, he decided it was a lovely thought, one he would most likely expand on later. But for now, he had to focus on William. John brought out the bottle and held his arms open.

He smiled as Sherlock handed Will back to him, reluctant to let go." It's alright, I'll let you change his nappy again in a little while." He laughed as he put the bottle in their baby's mouth, and he happily began eating.

Sherlock sighed, realizing that dirty diapers were now a integral part of their lives and would be for some time. "How about a trade, diaper duty for the first night shift?" He proposed.

"That's not fair! You don't even sleep." John said as he considered the offer. "But okay, I'm absolutely beat." Even now he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, not to mention the utter lack of sleep that he had had the night before. As content as he would have been to just hold his baby all night and never let go, he knew he would have to sleep and soon. so he passed the baby off, readjusting his sweater.

It was already dark and way past supper (despite the fact that they hadn't eaten since lunch). "I think I will head to bed now, actually, maybe once he's asleep, you can join me." John said, kissing Sherlock on the cheek and William on the forehead.

Sherlock nodded, cherishing the kiss and the wrapped bundle in his arms. He watched as John went off down the hall, heading to their bedroom. Sherlock moved up stairs to the nursery, the light aqua blue reminding him of the ocean. Sherlock had wanted a green but John thought that the blue would be more gender neutral, despite his protests but now it suited the room quite well. He sat in the rocking chair, holding the baby closer, watching as his eyes shut.

"I just sure hope we're ready for this."

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**Hello, hello. Once again, if you liked it, please comment or review. I just love it and it truly does fuel my inspiration! **


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm not doing it!" Sherlock said, crossing arms. He was doing a wonderful impression of a ten year old (whether or not he'd admit it).

John glared back, the crying baby in his arms. "I wasn't asking. Sherlock, I need a shower! Look at me, I am literally covered in spit up. Please, I know you're trying to sleep, but he's wailing!"

The dark haired man sighed, sitting up from his worn spot on the sofa. He out stretched his arms as he waited for John to pass him the child. "You owe me a nap."

"Thank you." Was all John could spit out through gritted teeth. As much as they loved being father's and William was a very wanted addition to their little family, the first few weeks or parenthood had not been easy.

The first few days had been a little rocky (and sleepless) but other than that a joy. But by the third day John could see Sherlock was getting bored and restless. He was sick of diaper changes and burping, he just wanted a few days, even a few hours without the crying. Before Watson, he would have thought a child an unwelcome distraction. But then... he could see the want to procreate, to bear a child to call his own. That desire was still present but it had been a different and more challenging endeavor than he had anticipated.

As he rocked William in his arms, cooing as he swayed, the newborn eventually settled. It gave Sherlock at least a momentary peace while he waited for John to finish showering. He simply couldn't understand the motive behind having more than two children. Parents who did that were absolutely mad. They has already been through the struggle of having two screaming babies, the mess and the horror, and still, knowingly decided to do it again. At least having one satisfied the urge to mate and breed, two gives you a solid chance of at least having one gifted child...but after that? Where was the logic?

"Okay. All clean, you can hand him back." John said as he wandered back into the sitting room.

By this time, Sherlock had been so lost in his train of thought that he had almost forgot he was holding the baby. " It's alright now, I'm already awake..." He said as he continued to rock his arms. "I'm sorry I was sour before, I'm just used to sleeping at whatever time suits me and I haven't been able to do that in a while. I guess I'm just cranky."

John could actually feel him mouth slack open with shock. Even with the baby, apologies were still an extreme rarity. "I know that it's been tough on you, but I think overall we are doing a decent job, bickering aside. Ya?" He asked, looking for some confirmation the Sherlock felt the same.

"It hasn't been living up to my expectations, this whole 'being a father' thing." He said as he flopped down into his chair.

"Do you regret it? If you do, tell me now." His hurt ringing through his voice.

Sherlock shook his head. "No, of course not! I suppose it more that I haven't been living up to my expectations. I just thought it would be different, I thought that I'd adapt more easily. As terrified as I was, I assumed once he was here that I would just know what to do."

The doctor sighed. He had asked the question but had no idea what to do if Sherlock's answer had been yes. "I think parenting is just one of those things that you can't be fully prepared for. You just have to expect to be thrown in and hope that you can swim." He replied as he moved closer and put a loving hand on his shoulder. "No matter what, we are making it work. William is still alive and seems to be happy, I think that's as good as its going to get for right now."

"I think I just need to adjust my parameters and apply what I've learned these past few weeks. Also, maybe learn to put his needs before my own." He said, stroking his chin with his free hand.

"Just maybe." John agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Green? Blue? Or should he do something gender neutral like yellow, that way there was no gender sterotypes? Sherlock pondered over this, looking down at william, trying to decide which would make him look the cutest. Although the front carriers took forever to put on and had way too many straps, it was incredibly useful to be able to carry the baby and be able to use his hands, and that was invaluable.

It still took him another five minutes standing in the onsie aisle before he finally decided on a yellow one with a less than accurate depiction of an aeroplane on it. It seemed impossible to ever find anything accurate for children. Every now and again, he would find a book on plants or pets and although it was very geared towards its target audience, it would be absolutely ludicrous. Giving children the wild idea the train cars are connected with simple hooks and planes fly shooting sparkles and rainbows from their rear. Heavens forbid his son grew up believing that all modes of transportation have eyes and mouths, and would know how to use them.

For right now he had a bit more time before William started to notice what he was being dressed in. Maybe once the time came, he'd have to make his own more realistic designs, but luckily, not at this moment.

Just as he was walking out the door with the few groceries in hand, his mobile buzzed, and then again.

Don't forget nappies -JW

And formula -JW

Sherlock rolled his eyes, dutifully walking back in to the store to grab the few last things they needed. It seemed like they always needed something or another. John had flatly refused when he had suggested using the attic space as a bulk store for all this baby stuff, much to his dismay. Now it felt like he was constantly being sent to the store. But John really needed some time to himself and maybe a few hours of extra sleep. He was luckily this time though, William was being very quite almost too quiet, but he was going to question it. Now, if only he could get home and put in his crib without him crying...that would be the day.

As they walked back to the flat, Sherlock realized for the first time in a while, he was really content. Not just happy, happy was an emotion that came and went. But this was different this was just bliss, a feeling he really had never felt without drugs. It was strange to feel this way,even in his happiest moments, he always had felt the need to keep his brain stimulated. He always needed a case or a puzzle and if those evaded him, he would need an escape.

Perhaps it was the consistent alertness or sleep deprivation or both, but his brain felt like it was starting to lag, he just didn't have the same speed anymore. Speed wasn't the right word, it was working at the same speed (obviously, his neurons weren't firing any slower), but it didn't need to be as occupied all the time. He could only focus on so many things, and when William was taking up 50% of his attention span, he was definitely more limited for the time being.

He was worried most of the time these days. Worried about whether the baby was eating enough, or if John was sleeping enough, or if he was taking care of his family well enough. There were just too many things running around his head to be preoccupied with the plain mundane.

-0-

John could hear the keys rattle in the locks, before he heard the door open. "Sher?"

"Just us." Sherlock called back as he placed the groceries on the kitchen table and put the baby in the bassinet.

Just as he started undoing the million and one straps on the carrier,John came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder. "I miss you."

The detective was surprised, but the gesture was not unwelcome. "But...I see you daily"

John sighed, turning him around so that they were face to face. "I mean, I miss spending one on one time with you. The only time we see each other is when we are so tired that we instantly fall asleep in our chairs or when you try and pass off your nappy change by saying that you can't smell anything." He said with a slight chuckle.

Sherlock made a face."You are exaggerating, John. Maybe we haven't been spending quality time together, but we are still Co-existing and we just sat next to each other on the couch last night!" He whined.

"It's not the same though. And last night doesn't count, I was eating and you were napping/drooling." John complained. "All I'm saying is that I think we'd both benefit from a date night. That's it."

A date night? "Who would watch the baby?" He questioned.

" , is that your only objection?" He whipped back.

He smiled and nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." John was beaming. They needed this, William was five weeks old and it felt like they were really starting to drift a bit. He really didn't want to find out what'd happen if they continued to move in this direction. It seemed like they both just felt lost and we're moving in opposite directions, weren't they supposed to be closer than ever? Parenthood was just supposed to bond them more, but it just wasn't, not from his point of view anyway.

-0-

I need a favor. -SH


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Mild homophobia**

"Now that's all? You're sure we're not forgetting something?" John asked as Sherlock was pushing him out the door.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. "He will be fine. Graham is here and I'm sure Mycroft will be watching too, not like he has anything better to do on a Wednesday night."

John fiddled with his keys, standing outside the door. "Its Greg, Sherlock. And are you sure he's qualified? Maybe we should have asked Molly..." He whispered in the narrow hall. " Why don't we just stay, it's too soon to leave him anyway."

Even though Sherlock was also terrified of leaving their baby, he needed to be the rational one. Greg was definitely not his first choice, but he was the only one not busy. Molly was on holiday, Mrs. Hudson had her weekly bridge game, and everyone else was out of the question. And they really needed this, so he took what he could find.

"John, do not make me carry you out that door." He said sternly. " You know I will."

The blonde scoffed. " You'd try, and then you'd have a broken nose."

"You had your chance to hit me when we were on the Adler case, and let me remind you that you purposely avoided my nose. I have good reason to believe that you'd make the same choice if the opportunity presented itself once more." He said as he guiding him down the stairs.

"Wanna bet?" John asked bitterly. He solomnly followed Sherlock's lead, consistently looking back, waiting for Greg to run after them and tell them to stay.

It was only when he saw the pout on Sherlock's face that he decided to be a bit more agreeable. "Alright, you right. He's going to be fine, it'll only be a few hours." He said as he gave up what was left of his resistance, trying to convince himself the his words were truth.

Finally the smile ( if you can call it that),it was more of a non-frown, returned to Sherlock's usual demeanor. He was being the perfect gentleman, he was opening all the doors, using his manners and even took John to a resteraurant where no one owed him any favors.

"So what's the occasion?" John asked, taking a sip of his water.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "The birth of our child? As if I needed a reason to take you out." He said with a charismatic grin.

The doctor had barely expected to get take away from the shop on the corner, so this was a real surprise and treat. "No, you don't NEED an occasion, but it seems to be the only times we ever go out like this."

"You're right, but like you said, we need this. Being parents has really been tough on our relationship, I think we can both see that." He replied, putting his hand over John's.

It was true, this new part of their life was more difficult than they had anticipated. But they were trying, and really working on adapting their relationship to accommodate their new responsibilities.

"You're wonderful, you know that right?" John asked, his smile beaming.

The brunette laughed. "You tell me now and again."He teased.

After a few moments of quiet, John piped up again. "Do you think we should call Greg and check up on the baby?"

Sherlock sighed. He was torn, he really wanted to. Just to see how things were going. But he also knew he had to trust Greg and learn to leave William in other people's capable hands. But before he could stop the words..."Yes. "

John looked so relieved, probably just that he wasn't the only one worried out if his mind. " Okay, give me a second and I'll go do that."

-0-

Greg had been quite shocked when Sherlock had asked him to babysit, he was sure that he'd have gotten a stranger off the street before he'd let him do it. But here they were.

Don't get him wrong, he was elated to be able to help out. For some reason he liked Sherlock, and he was really glad that he had pulled his life together, anything he could do to keep his consulting detectives this happy, he would do. Even if that meant cleaning up spit up and changing nappies.

He had just put william down and got him settled when his phone started to ring. He quickly crept out of the nursery, trying to cover the obnoxious noise.

"Hello?" He whispered as he fumbled with his phone.

"Greg? Is everything alright?" John asked worriedly.

He sighed, relieved it wasn't work calling and trying to pull him away. "John. Hi, yes, everything is fine. He's sleeping like a baby." Greg said, trying hard to not laugh at his own joke.

"Are you sure we don't need to come back?" He asked.

"Um... I guess you could if you wanted. But we are really doing good here, so feel free to stay out." He replied, kind of confused by the question. "Any way, I'll let you get back to your date night, bye John. "

-0-

John wandered back to the table, clutching his mobile.

"Well? How's things?" Sherlock asked, as he swiftly payed the check.

The blogger cleared his throat. "Hmm? Ya, it's all fine."

"You want to go back to the flat, don't you?" He asked, realizing that calling Greg hadn't really settled him.

John bit his lip. "Yes. As long as you don't mind, tonight has been really really lovely..."

"But you want to be with William. I understand, it's taken all I have to go out tonight, knowing that neither of us are at home with him."Sherlock said as he stood up from the table.

The detective laughed as the shorter man threw him a disbelieving look. "What? It's true. I promise you that I've been just as worried as you have."

"There's just no way, you have been the picture of calm all night. If anything you seemed more relaxed than normal." He quipped as they strolled their way, hand-in-hand, to the sedan.

It was just then that they heard some scuffling behind them. Sherlock had notice some people following them since the restaurant, but hadn't overly cared, they had been some distance behind them,but no longer. Now they were close enough to be breathing down their necks.

He sensed John could feel it too, his grip on his hand got steadily stronger and his movements got stiffer, feeling the tensions in the air. It was a dark night and this particular street only had a few lamps, definitely not enough to shed any light on the situation. It wasn't long until they both realized what was going on.

"Wallets, mobiles, and any other valuables on the ground. We've gotta gun and we'll use it. No harm in getting rid of a few faggots." One of the men ordered in a deep, husky voice. They both laughed at the last bit, which only enraged them both more.

Sherlock was braced to fight, but John knew that from this position they were definitely at a disadvantage, especially if the dirt bags behind them actually did have a gun.

"You heard 'em, on the ground" The second man said as he pressed the barrel of the gun to Sherlock's back. That was the last straw for John. Within moments he had the attacker with the gun face down on the ground, leaving the other smaller man for Sherlock to easily apprehend as he tried to flee.

"You bloody bastard." John spat as he held him down. "Unfortunately, you picked the wrong faggots to try and mess with." He said as he threw his phone to Sherlock to call 999.

-0-

It was past one in the morning when the finally arrived back at the flat, both scuffed up and a little worse for wear, but overall fine.

Greg was asleep on the sofa, baby monitor next to his head, snoring away. John nudged his leg and waited for the officer to gain a bit of awareness. "What happened to you two?" He asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"You wouldn't believe it if we told you, but I'm sure you can look at the police report in the morning." Sherlock said, just too tired to rehash it all now.

John smiled. "Thanks for babysitting, feel free to stay the night. I'm gonna go check on him."

Greg stood up. "So, seriously...what happened? You didn't murder anyone did you?" He asked Sherlock, half asking and half genuinely concerned about the damage control he'd have to do in the morning.

"No,of course not. We got mugged by a couple of lowlifes, who apparently had nothing better to do than harass us."He replied as he fell into his chair.

The older man was shocked. "That's horrible. Those buggers probably didn't even know what hit them."

"They are just lucky that they were still breathing when the police got there." Sherlock added. "Like John said, you are welcome to sleep here, but I think we will both be going to bed now."

"That's alright, I better head out. I don't want my goldfish to get lonely." He said as he shook Sherlock's hand and finished saying his goodbyes.

-0-

By the time they had both gone and checked on William and gotten into bed it was after two and they had given up on the notion of getting a decent nights sleep.

"I love you, John. But I swear to God, if you ever do something stupid like that again, you might not be around to tell the tale." Sherlock said, flicking off his bedside lamp.

John kissed him quickly but deeply. "I guess it's lucky for me that you're an atheist." He replied as he shut his light off. "Goodnight."


End file.
